


thunderbolt and lightning, very very frightening

by wedelia



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Puppy Acquisition, Fluff, Gen, Infinity Wars? Who's she?, Thor's powers may diverge from canon, Thor: Ragnarok also hasn't happened - we're in the Team Thor timeline, unrealistic weather patterns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 17:45:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15006080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wedelia/pseuds/wedelia
Summary: It starts with an e-mail: “Dear Mr. Odinsson, sorry to bother you - I’m sure you’re a busy man, ruling a godly realm and all - but could you please knock it off with the thunderstorms? They scare my dog. Thanks, Peter.”





	1. Chapter 1

Peter’s not the only scruffy, hypersensitive thing in the Parker apartment when the biggest thunderstorm of the decade hits Queens. While gusts of wind batter the brick of the walls outside and an ominous thunder-rumbling seems to move closer and closer overhead, Peter does his best to calm the mutt he’d found hiding behind a garbage can on patrol the night before.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, little guy,” Peter says. The puppy looks up at him with dark, plaintive eyes, its tiny body wracked with nervous shivers, and lets out a sad whimper. Peter feels like he’s been stabbed in the heart.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. “You’ll be okay, I promise. It’s only thunder.”

Right as he says that, there’s another roll of thunder loud enough to make Peter wince. Then a just-as-loud crack of lightning. The puppy whines and butts its head against the hand Peter’s petting it with.

And, alright, that’s it. Peter won’t stand for this. Something has to be done. He knows that thunder is a natural phenomenon that can’t be taken into an alley and punched like an ATM robber, but Peter has to fight _someone._  Or, if he can’t fight someone, he needs to at least send a strongly worded message.

“Karen.”   

The prompt, cheerful response: “Yes, Peter?”

Peter glances down one more time at the shaking puppy and frowns. “How do I get in touch with a Norse god? Some kind of summoning ritual by candlelight? A bat signal? Carrier pigeon?”

“Actually, Peter, I have access to an e-mail address listed for Thor Odinsson. He can be contacted at [ poptartluvr2011@hotmail.com ](mailto:poptartluvr2011@hotmail.com).”

Peter takes a second to digest that. Then, “Karen, please tell him --”

   

_Dear Mr. Odinsson,_

_Sorry to bother you -- I’m sure you’re a busy man, ruling a godly realm and all -- but could you please knock it off with the thunderstorms? They scare my dog._

_Thanks,_

_Peter_

_P.S. We haven’t met before, but you know Mr. Stark and Mr. Stark knows me, so by extension we kind of know each other._

_P.P.S. Okay, that should be good. Hey, Karen, I just realized that it’s possible that Thor has never met a dog. Theoretically. Like, he only ever does superhero things when he’s on Earth, right? So it’s possible he doesn’t even know dogs are a thing. That’s so --_

_[crack]_

_[distressed barking]_

_Hey, shh, you’re okay! It’s alright. Karen, have you sent the --_

 

A few days later, Thor reads over the strange electronic letter for a third time, thoughtful. It’s certainly the first message he’s gotten from someone other than a Nigerian prince or Darcy since he had Darryl set up an e-mail account for him, and Thor has nothing better to do at the moment. So he decides to respond.

In person.

 

Peter has a weird sense of deja vu. He comes in from the endless rain outside, the puppy trailing behind him on its new leash, to find his aunt on the couch in the living room alongside someone who is by any standard way too impressive to plausibly be _in Peter’s home._

How does this keep happening to him?

When he hears Peter’s footsteps at the door, Thor stands up with all the grace one would expect from a literal - _literal! -_ thunder god, flashes a charming smile, and introduces himself as Thor, son of Odin, prince of Asgard. “It's an honor to meet you, Peter.”

“I like this one,” Aunt May mouths over Thor’s shoulder. Then she winks.

Peter considers the idea of his Aunt May and the thunder god currently dripping rainwater onto their carpet _seeing_ each other and barely keeps from making a face. Ew.

There’s a lengthy pause.

The puppy tugs on its leash at Peter’s feet, and he realizes that it’s his turn to speak. He says, intelligently, “Uh.”

Thor’s attention has been diverted to the puppy. He crouches down, opens his arms, and says (more to the puppy than to Peter), “And who’s this adorable beast?”

The puppy seems thrilled to meet Thor. It wastes no time jumping up and covering the _literal thunder god in Peter’s home_ with sloppy, affectionate licks. “Ha,” Thor laughs. “That tickles.”

Peter’s still...buffering. Yeah. That’s the right word. He needs a minute to figure out how to deal with this.

Aunt May comes to his rescue. “We haven’t decided on a name for him yet.”

Thor hmms. “I’ve always liked the name Mjolnir. And this magnificent animal certainly seems worthy of it,” he says. Then, to the dog, he says, “Who’s a good boy? You are!”

The puppy -- Mjolnir now, Peter guesses -- wriggles with excitement at the praise, its tail wagging enthusiastically.

Just then, the storm outside - still raging, even though it’s been over a week since it began- reasserts itself with a loud rumble. Mjolnir’s ears flatten against his head.

Peter’s mind comes back online. “Mr. - uh - Mr. Odinsson. Are you here because of my, um…?” _My short-sighted and possibly blasphemous e-mail_ , is what he means. Because yes, he had sent the e-mail knowing that the recipient was allegedly a thunder god, but he hadn't expected to face any actual repercussions.

 “Yes. About that,” Thor says. “I cannot actually control the weather.”

Peter blinks. “But you're the god of thunder.”

Thor shrugs one shoulder like _what can you do?_ “I know, right?”

“How does that even work?”

Thor clears his throat. “Well. I can summon elements of a storm -- lightning, thunder... rain, even -- and I suppose it wouldn’t be entirely inaccurate to say that I can control the weather to a certain extent -- but it would take more power than I can reasonably use at one time to stop a naturally-occuring storm of this magnitude.”

“Oh.”

“I apologize that I’m not able to do more for little Mjolnir,” Thor says, sincere. He’s still bent down and has been lavishing the puppy with gentle pets. Mjolnir, for his part, seems to have forgotten about the storm in favor of pushing his head insistently into the palm of Thor’s hand.

“There is one thing you could do,” Aunt May says, suddenly.

Peter’s eyes snap toward her. She’s wearing that slightly smug smile Peter recognizes from the moments just before she talks him into eating his broccoli or washing the dishes.

Thor beams at her. “Anything!”

“I’d love to see Mjolnir go to a good home,” May says. “The landlord has rules against pets, so we can’t keep him here for much longer.”

Thor doesn’t hesitate to say, “I would be glad to take this loveable mutt home with me! Darryl will be delighted.”

_Darryl…?_ Peter wonders, but he decides not to ask.


	2. Darryl Meets Mjolnir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darryl's reaction to the new puppy.

Darryl is not delighted.

“Come on, man, live a little,” Thor says, clapping a hand on Darryl’s shoulder and using the other to gesture at the small, doe-eyed puppy sitting on their welcome mat. “How can you say no to that face?”

Darryl scowls at the floor. Not at the dog, though — he’s not a monster. He's not going to take his frustration with his roommate out on an innocent puppy.

“I can’t believe you brought back a dog,” Darryl says, exasperated. “I can already guess who’s going to be taking care of it!”

"Me,” says Thor.

Darryl rolls his eyes. “Sure, Thor.”

“Darryl,” Thor says, trying for a placating tone. “You know me! When have I ever shirked a responsibility?”

“Last week,” Darryl says, unhesitating. “When it was your turn to do the dishes and instead you built a tower of pizza boxes on the kitchen table.”

Thor sighs, put-upon, like an avant-garde artist enduring the criticism of an unenlightened public. “That was the Leaning Tower of Pizza, Darryl, it was a work of art—”

“It was a _mess,_ Thor!” Darryl’s face has flushed an angry red; he lets out a long breath to try to cool down.

Mjolnir woofs. He looks so cute sitting there near the doorstep with his head tucked into his paws and his big brown eyes gazing up at Darryl, searchingly almost, as if he’s asking a silent question. And, well, as mentioned before, Darryl’s not a _monster…._

Darryl softens. Just a little. “Alright,” he says, finally. “I guess it can stay.”

Thor perks up immediately. “Yes! Thank you, Darryl! You will not regret this.”

Darryl lowers himself and offers his hand for Mjolnir to sniff at. “I’d better not.”


End file.
